


They're Not a Shield

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With falling comes uncertainty, but Castiel finds that the less clothes he wears, the more he feels more like how he was before. Dean, of course, just wants to know why he's picked up the habit of getting out of his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're Not a Shield

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamabonotchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamabonotchi/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: 'Season 5-ish, a falling! or human!Cas starts having nudist tendencies, feeling almost like an angel again if he doesn't wear clothes to cover what is now his entire being. At first Dean freaks out, up to author how it ends.'  
> I'd really love to thank my BETA for reading over this last minute for me! <33

It was a cold winter night, snow tumbling down from the sky in fluffy white masses, when Cas took off his trench coat with an almost entranced movement, eyes gazing up at the sky, unseeing. Dean stared at his friend in confusion, wondering why the hell someone would bother taking off clothes when it was freezing outside. He, himself, could feel goosebumps rising on his arms from the chilly air, his well-worn leather jacket doing nothing to protect him from the weather. The coffee in his hands felt burning hot in contrast to the biting wind that nipped at his flesh.

Dean turned to his friend, a grin taking over his face. “Try not get sick there, Cas.”

The angel simply tilted his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. It was only a moment later when Dean realized his mistake, Cas’s face taking a darker turn. After all, angels couldn’t get sick, but humans easily could.

The shorter man padded back to the motel room, his arms tightening their hold on the tan trench coat. It suddenly dawned on Dean that this was the first time he saw Cas without that particular piece of clothing on. Somehow, the thought disturbed him a bit, a foreboding twist in his stomach telling him something strange was stirring up. Then again, his paranoia sometimes got the better of him and he had the bad habit of worrying too much. It was probably nothing. Who knew? Maybe the trench coat was built for the chilly weather and Cas had been sweating in it.

With a shake of his head, Dean followed Castiel’s trail, eyes flickering skywards to watch the snow float down in gentle wisps before he followed Cas into the motel room. A grin settled onto his face as he bent over to where pure white snow was piling up. He set down his coffee, then packed the frosty snow into his hands.

“Hey, Sammy!” Dean exclaimed as he slammed open the door. Sam immediately whirled around in his seat, unable to react before a cold, melting snowball smacked him in the face. Dean doubled over, cackling at the face his brother pulled.

“Dean, what the hell was that for?!”

More laughter erupted from Dean’s mouth, filling the room with the sound of his amusement. Then his eyes found Cas and the sound cut off, choked and stuck in his throat.

Cas had his middle and index fingers looped into the neck of his tie, the other hand playing with the cuff of Jimmy’s white dress shirt. His blue eyes were watching Dean curiously, his head tilted in that cat-like way of his, not understand this new, childish game the hunter was playing.

The sight was more than unusual. The former angel was more than prudish. He wasn’t supposed to be undressing, his body - Jimmy’s body, Dean reminded himself - attractive and so damn claimable. He wasn’t supposed have that innocent, oblivious glint in his eye while looking so provocative, so inviting, as if asking Dean to come over and take that shirt off for him.

Dean forced himself to swallow, tearing his eyes away from the falling angel. He was probably just hot in the motel room, right? He wasn’t trying to seduce the hunter with his sweet looks and his innocent gaze. That was when Dean noticed how much cold air was being blown into the room and that Sam was staring at him with complete and utter confusion, concern in his eye.

The older Winchester forced himself to close the door, his hands shaking slightly from both the cold and his sudden nervousness. His eyes flickered towards every inch of the corner but where Cas was, finally settling on the now wet form of his brother.

“Dean? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, Sammy, everything’s fine. Just tired.” The worry in his younger brother’s eyes seemed to increase at the tone of his voice. Dean internally groaned, throwing himself onto one of the empty beds.

————————————————————

They were out at a diner when Cas took off his suit jacket, placing it neatly on his lap. Both Sam and Dean stared at him in confusion, watching as he folded his trench coat on top of it before picking up his fork and digging into the pancakes that sat in front of him.

If there was one thing they knew about Cas, it was that he didn’t take off his clothes. Mainly because he had no need to, but watching him start now was a little strange. The sight of him was odd, out of place, almost like he was Jimmy again, sitting down with his wife and kid for Sunday dinner.

Dean slowly ate his apple pie, finding himself unable to thoroughly enjoy it like he normally would. He snuck a glance at Cas, who sat across from him, eyeing the way the white shirt seemed unfamiliar on him. Honestly, he looked a little naked without the trench coat.

As they walked back to the Impala, Cas made no move to put either of the coats back on. When they got to the car, he immediately started to tug at his tie, loosening it until it hung awkwardly low against his chest.

Dean’s jaw clenched, fingers tightening their hold on the steering wheel as he caught sight of the former angel pulling the tie over his head. When pale fingers started to tug at the top buttons of his shirt, the older Winchester knew he couldn’t take much more of this.

Slamming on the breaks, Dean swerved to the side of the road, whipping around to face the back. “What the hell, Cas?! What do you think you’re doing?”

Castiel’s fingers paused on their mission, blue eyes meeting green. Slowly, almost unconsciously, the digits kept moving, pushing the first button through the hole and revealing yet another fraction of pale, smooth skin.

“Dean, he’s just taking off his clothes. Admittedly in a kind of creepy way, but it’s not like he’s taking off his pants, so I don’t see what the problem is.” Sam sighed, running a hand through his thick, long hair. “Besides, Cas, you’re gonna need to change those clothes anyways. Maybe we could let you borrow some of Dean’s clothes tomorrow and get yours washed?”

“I think that’s an acceptable idea. Thank you Sam.”

“All right. Just save the clothes removing for the motel room, okay?” Castiel nodded at Sam, eyes moving to gaze out the window. Dean could see him staring at the sky wistfully, probably thinking about his dickwad family and how he was cut off from them.

Guilt slammed into his whole being. It was his fault that Cas was going through this, through the process of becoming human. The angel hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Dean who convinced him to get where he was now. A vague memory of the Cas from 2014 floated into his mind, reminding him of the possible future that loomed ahead. One where his friend could be high on any drug he could get and succumbing to the very thing he was afraid of now. And it would be all his fault.

A gentle nudge at his rib cage reminded him that they were still on the side of the road. Rolling his eyes, Dean rolled back onto the road, driving the trio back to their room in a shabby motel.

————————————————————

“Hey Cas! What do you want for breakfast?” Dean turned to face his friend, only to backpedal in shock. There was nothing on the other’s upper body, revealing porcelain skin and a bitter scar of what angel banishing sigils etched into his chest. The trench coat, suit jacket and white shirt were nowhere to be seen, while the blue tie was on the floor beside his foot, forgotten.

Dean stood there, gaping at the fallen angel in shock and disbelief. The other’s hand was tugging at his belt, fingers stroking the material lightly. The jeans were too big for him at the waist, considering they had previously belonged to Dean, and hung much too low for comfort at the moment. A flash of the underwear Cas was wearing peeked from where they sat on his waist, the sight of which made the room seem several degrees warmer.

“I trust your judgment, Dean. It would be preferable if you chose it, considering I don’t have much experience with human cuisine.”

Dean nodded his head numbly, unable to tear his eyes away from the angel’s body. His eyes wandered from the shoulders down to the abdomen, swallowing thickly when he reached the button on the jeans. The other person in the room didn’t acknowledge his companion’s obvious staring, slim fingers still stroking at his belt.

The rustling of the bathroom door jolted Dean back to awareness. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. He brought a hand up to his face, covering his eyes, suddenly unable, or unwilling, to seeing his best friend’s near naked form. “Dammit Cas! Put your fucking clothes on!”

The angel blinked at him, his face unreadable. Eventually, he sighed, nodding slightly as he stood up. He bent over, grabbing his tie then turning away from the hunter. As he moved across the room, one hand still wrapped around his belt, Sam exited the bathroom.

The younger Winchester blinked at the sight, his mouth falling open. His eyes followed Cas’s movements, face unbelieving of what he saw. Had Dean not been so shocked himself, he’d be laughing at the expression on his brother’s face. Instead, the room was filled with a tense silence, the only sound being the rustling of fabric as Cas pulled his clothes on.

Curious blue eyes lifted to meet Dean’s, his head tilting in that familiar way of his. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face, his eyes gazing deeply into Dean’s own green ones. A shudder ran down the older Winchester’s spine, causing him to bring his gaze to his brother.

“Uh, Cas, people don’t normally go around taking their clothes off.” Sam said slowly, as if testing the words in his mouth. Castiel finally turned to face him, blinking at him in an owl-like fashion.

“But you said to leave the removal of clothing for the motel room-”

“I didn’t quite mean it like that.”

Castiel tilted his head curiously, though there seemed to be something darker, something sadder, in his eyes. With a nod, he slipped the white dress shirt onto his frame, slowly pushing buttons through their respective holes.

————————————————————

Research was hard work.

A groan left Dean’s lips as he threw an arm over his eyes, trying to avoid the bright sunlight seeping through the motel curtains. It had been another late night of researching that ended up fruitless, causing the Winchesters to crash. The past few months had been exhausting and Castiel had insisted - with his eyes - that they take a nice long night full of sleep. Slowly, Dean’s eyes adjusted to the lighting, marking another day to get up, research, and gank a son of a bitch.

The first thing Dean saw when he was fully upright made his jaw drop. There, in the middle of the room, was Castiel, the son of a bitch, without anything to cover the top of his body. His belt laid on the ground innocently, the button on his jeans open. The angel was gazing up at the ceiling, his eyes closed as if in prayer, his fingers caught hooked between the rim of his jeans and his pale, soft skin. That thought made Dean wince.

“Cas? What are you doing?” The angel jolted in surprise, whipping his head over to where Dean was blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Castiel’s face seemed to fall, his hands immediately moving from his waistband to button it up and zip the fly.

“Nothing that is of your concern, Dean.”

“No, you should tell me.” Castiel shook his head as if to say that Dean wouldn’t understand. He pulled one of Dean’s dress shirts over his head before situating himself on a chair. “Cas? You okay, man?”

“Do not worry about it, Dean. It is not of import.”

“No, Cas, you weren’t like this before! You can’t go around saying that it’s ‘not of import’ when something’s obviously bothering you!”

“I believe you would phrase it as ‘no chick flick moments.’”

Dean blinked, not quite registering what Cas had said. A yawn to his left notified him that Sam was waking up. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, watching as the other opened a can of Coke and sipped at it experimentally. His nose scrunched up in surprise, but that didn’t stop him from drinking more. He clearly wasn’t going to continue the conversation.

“Cas? Dean? What’s going on…?” They both turned their gazes to Sam, whose eyes widened comically at the sight of the falling angel. Excitement seemed to seep into Sam. A smile pulled across his face as he flung the blankets off his body before he stood up to pad over to his friend. “Cas, I didn’t think Coke would be your kind of thing! Oh man! Food! Just think of the possibilities! I’ll get you pancakes! I’m sure you’ll like pancakes. Ah! If we were in Canada, I’d get them with maple syrup - I think you’d like that.”

Castiel seemed to brighten at Sam’s enthusiasm, nodding at him. “I think I’d enjoy that. Have a safe trip.”

Once Sam was out the door, the room seemed to settle into an awkward silence. Dean’s jaw clenched as he got out of bed, picking up jeans and a shirt for the day. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bathroom. And don’t start taking off anymore clothes!”

Castiel watched as the bathroom door shut behind the hunter, his eyes falling down to the can in his hand. The clothes were too confining - if he could get out, maybe run and spread his wings in the air, then maybe, just maybe…

This new form was strange and whole. It was much smaller than his celestial body, and much more confining. The clothes scratched against his flesh and it was aggravating. Angels didn’t need such constricting material to cover their bodies. They didn’t need to be chained to this social normality. So why should he? After all, he was an angel.

Or used to be. He was no longer an angel - just something in between, quickly becoming human with every minute that passed.

A breath hitched in his throat, his hands falling down to unbutton his jeans. But being in an unclothed form unnerved Dean. Perhaps it would be better if he didn’t push at the other’s irritation. Yet that thought melted away in a second, fingers already pulling down the zipper and thumbs hooking between his hips and his underwear. They pushed down, cool air immediately hitting his skin.

Castiel bit his lip, looking down at the pile of clothing at his feet. He sat down, but the wooden surface of the chair felt too smooth and cold against his bare flesh. The falling angel pulled his legs up to his body, wrapping his arms tentatively against the warm skin. It was cold, but it was free.

“Dammit Sam, an electrical razor would be really nice right now.” The bathroom door clicked open, a grumbling half-dressed hunter stumbling out. He stopped at the sight of his friend, sitting curled up on the chair with his legs pushed up and, well, looking rather…

There were no words to describe how much Dean wanted his angel right now. All he could think of was how those lips would be soft and pliant against his own, while those lithe fingers would grasp at his hair. Those arms would be wrapped around him, pulling him closer because that’s what the angel needed - he was lonely and cut off from his family. He’d crave what comfort and warmth he could get. But that wasn’t something Dean could provide. He wasn’t a lifeline that Cas could take, and so he wrenched himself out from his thoughts and shoved his attraction far away in his mind, forcing irritation to seep out instead.

“Cas! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The falling angel flinched, wide eyes turning to his friend. The anger Dean had felt slipped at the open expression in his friend’s deep blue gaze. There was something hurt and broken in there, making a cold ball lie in his stomach.

“Cas, man, what’s wrong with you?” Castiel shook his head, his arms tightening around his legs. The look of sadness and pain dissipated, leaving an angel who was faintly annoyed.

“Sam will return soon. I suggest you put on more appropriate attire.”

And all of a sudden, the anger came back full force. Dean growled, stomping over to where Castiel was now getting up. “Don’t you dare stand there without any clothes on and tell /me/ to get dressed.”

Castiel’s mouth opened to reply when the clicking of the motel room door caught both of their attentions. Blue eyes widened in panic before Cas was shoving around Dean, making a dash to the bathroom. The door slammed shut just as Sam got in their room, his face full of confusion. At the sight of his brother, however, he let out a groan, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Really? Get dressed already, Dean.”

Dean threw his hands up in exasperation, glaring at the general area of the bathroom for the next hour.

————————————————————

The former angel sat naked on one of the motel beds, his trench coat on his lap. His fingers stroked the tan material, bringing a ghost of a smile to his face. After all, it was Jimmy’s, and it had stayed with him throughout all his mishaps. It was practically a part of him now.

Cas’s head rose as Dean entered the room, both of them freezing when they caught sight of each other. After a while, the hunter frowned and shook his head, but otherwise communicated nothing. The initial shock of the situation had lost all of its effect, leaving nothing more than a growing arousal that was getting ridiculously hard to resist.

“Cas… just, why? Why are you doing this?” Dean walked over to the dark-haired man, settling down at the edge of the bed where he was. The other gazed at him with wide blue eyes, slouching a bit when he saw no escape.

“I just- It’s difficult, Dean.” Cas took a moment to himself, tilting his head as if thinking about how to explain it. “I used to be… powerful. I was an angel, I was one of God’s soldiers. And now I’m… this.”

He gestured to his pale, thin frame, eyes watching the hunter’s green ones carefully. A sigh was all he heard before gentle lips pressed against his forehead. Blue eyes widened in shock, Cas’s mouth falling open.

Dean’s lips captured his own in a heartbeat, gently moving against the flesh. A soft groan left the shorter male’s mouth, confusion settling in along with a tingling sensation of warmth. It pooled in his stomach, his neck flushing red. He felt fingers entwine with his own, bringing him closer to the hunter’s clothed body. And suddenly his bottom lip was being sucked on and it was warm and so, so good and-

Castiel gasped, tearing away from Dean. Immediately, the lips that had been kissing him were attacking his neck, kissing it and licking the flushed skin, making the former angel moan in arousal. His hands gripped onto Dean’s shoulders, his whole body trembling as the hunter placed kisses on it. He could feel blood vessels breaking under the force, yet the feeling was more than pleasurable.

“Dean…”

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.”

The motel room door slammed open, Sam Winchester walking in with his cellphone in hand, head whipping up to where Dean and Cas sat frozen on the bed. Immediately, he walked right back out, jaw clenched tightly.

Strangely, Castiel didn’t feel so… angel-like, anymore. He felt exposed and vulnerable, as if he could be hurt at any moment. He pulled at Dean, bringing the hunter closer to him, inhaling his scent deeply. The taller man simply held him close, bringing both their bodies to lay down on the bed. A smile tugged at the angel’s lips as he rested his forehead against Dean’s. The green-eyed man smiled back, one hand combing through messy, dark hair.

“I’ve got you, Cas.”

Castiel closed his eyes, snuggling closer to the warm body surrounding his naked one. Gentle breaths tickled his face, arms wrapped securely around him. It was a comfortable feeling - a protected one.

It felt like home.


End file.
